Reaper's Reign
by Phoenix of Starlight
Summary: A broken truce, a guilty traitor, starved demons. Sebastian Michaelis has had enough. When his contract of four years is thieved by reapers, he decides to strike back, and hard. Unfortunately for him, a certain oblivious red reaper seems to keep turning up around every corner. Contains violence, some character deaths, and slight romance.
1. Stolen from Styx

There exists only thing in the universe that can bestow happiness upon a vile demon—the death of their master. Though they may pretend to care for the humans with whom they sign contracts, more often than not a demon will use trickery and manipulation to steal away a soul before it ripens, before the contract is properly fulfilled.

Once, one named Sebastian Michaelis was such a demon. It was only when he contracted a child known as Earl Ciel Phantomhive that he found himself unable to slink off with his prize early on. Through strict orders that could not be disobeyed, the demon was leashed to his master for an agonizing amount of time, nearly four years of slaving over the child, essentially leaping through hoop after hoop in order to obtain the soul.

It wasn't without perks entirely; the opportunity was there for Sebastian to learn of human behavior more intimately than he'd ever experienced before. However, his starvation nearing the end of the contract had kept him from keeping up most of the time, as far as culture was concerned.

And, near the end of his pact, he was trained like a dog, and patiently awaited his reward until the day came at last when his contract with the boy came to an end.

* * *

Thick fog rolled around the small boat they rode in, almost completely concealing it, though the water below was clear, and glowing with the remnants of the young lord's Cinematic Record. Pieces of memories floated about at the surface, playing back the lord's life as they did so.

He, however, paid it all no mind. Glancing up at the dark, thin figure rowing the boat, Ciel finally spoke up, ice in his voice, "Where is this place, Sebastian?"

"This river? It is known by mortals as the river Styx, a gateway into the supernatural," the demon answered with ease. "We are going somewhere no one can follow us to."

"Not even another demon?" Ciel asked snidely.

"A persistent demon, perhaps, but there are none here," Sebastian answered with a chuckle. "I'm referring more towards… those of the red-haired, loud type."

"Reapers, you mean."

"Yes."

Silence fell over the two again, and as Sebastian continued to row through the waters, he felt a small sense of relief. They would soon be on a safe point. No reapers knew of the devil's rock that lay between the mortal realm and Hell itself, making it a place where demons could finish off their contracts peacefully, without interference. Despite the old truce between demons and reapers that stated that contracted souls could not be reaped, safety was always one of Sebastian's biggest priorities.

At last, they began to approach the large, dark form of the devil's rock, the island crumbled and cracked from countless battles. As they pulled up to the ashen shore, Styx's water's lapping at the edges of their small boat, Sebastian rasped, "Here we are." He pulled the boat up a short distance, then moved to Ciel's side and picked the boy up, beginning to carry him to the center of the island.

"Awful gloomy out here," the earl muttered boredly as they walked.

"I find it quite pleasant," Sebastian answered.

The soft sound of the distant waves faded, replaced by soft footfalls against rocky ground. It was a thick, pregnant silence, like the pause between a distant flash of lightning and the thunder that would follow, and everything about the land was black, from the skies to the ground that they walked upon. There were no plants, though the occasional ravaged building passed through their sight, and if not for the glowing red eyes of the demon and the splash of colorful human held in his arms, even they would blend into the scenery perfectly.

Looming ahead lay the ruins of a gothic-style building. The low, raucous call of a raven would occasionally ring out, though it hushed as the pair approached. Carefully, Sebastian led them through an archway into the building, and moved to lay his master against a worn, stone bench.

"I will be gentle," he said.

"Don't," Ciel rasped, "I've lived out this contract knowing what was to come, and I want you to be the ravenous demon you are now that it's over. Etch that pain in my soul forever. I'm not afraid of you."

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian's eyes flickered like flames as he leaned in close, and he licked his lips with anticipation as he approached the body before him. Like a fine wine, Ciel's soul was aged to perfection, ripe for the taking, so fragrant and perfect that it drew the demon nearly insane. He inched forward until their noses brushed, breath mingling as he began to carefully draw out the soul. The faint glow of it as it was pulled from the boy would've brought a lesser demon to his knees—at long last, a delicious meal…

Sebastian's jaws parted and he began to move, only to jump in surprise as a long blade sliced through the soul, forcing him back and taking his master's soul alongside it. Red eyes widened as he saw the long pole snap back as quickly as it'd come, clicking as it retracted. The ravens that had gathered flew off with sharp squawks, and all around the smell of death began to cloud the sweet scent of sin. Shadowed figures stood on the walls of the ruins, their forms broken only by the glinting glasses, and the blades held in each gloved hand.

Reapers.

"Sebastian Michaelis," came the call of a familiar voice from the figure that had stolen away his meal. "We have been sent to dispose of you on accounts of malicious behavior towards reapers, disturbance of the natural order, and attempted consumption of a human soul without proper clearance with Administration. You will now be executed like the vermin you are."

"I apologize, I was under the impression that we had a truce here," Sebastian answered calmly, though the ground shook beneath him, as if quaking with fear of his rage. The rock below lit up with dancing black flames as the demon's power flared, and the demon continued, "Alas, that contrived speech you delivered simply assures me that you never intended to follow that truce from the beginning. Do you do this often to my kind, William T. Spears?"

"Quiet, vermin! Dispatch, rid this world of that dog."

With that, the thunder roared, reapers dropping in from every angle, brandishing their scythes and all lunging for the demon. Sebastian's eyes narrowed as the demon analyzed their movements for a brief moment that felt far too long, before he was gone, having leaped over the very walls they used to ambush him. Running quickly, he made back for the shore, soon diving into the water of Styx and starting to swim downstream. The records in the water were deadly, and though the demon was well aware of the threats of having records flow into him, it was less trouble than being slaughtered by reapers.

"Don't lose him!" William ordered. "We have to take him out while he's weakened!"

The band of reapers ran for the water as well, only to stop dead at the shore. "We can't, we might catch the Thorns," murmured a couple, and William brushed past them, sharp eyes scanning the water. He launched his scythe a few different places, soon bringing it back with a sigh.

"Excellent. Overtime again today…," he muttered as he adjusted his glasses, soon turning back to the others. "We're leaving," he said, before using his scythe to tear open a portal back to the reaper realm. As the reapers began to file out, William looked back at the water. There was a larger vessel making its away along the river, and he didn't need to make it out to know it meant trouble. As William followed after the last reaper, the portal blinked out of existence.

Sebastian continued to swim for a fair amount of time before he had to surface again, taking a slow breath as he glanced back. The island was no longer in sight, and the cold water and fog surrounding him weren't quite the most soothing of sights.

"Hello? Who's out there?"

Recognizing the voice, Sebastian gave a half-relieved sigh. Perhaps he wouldn't be lost out here for too long after all. "Demon, Sebastian Michaelis. Is that the ferryman I hear?"

"The one and only. What are you doing in my river?" A large boat began to roll up beside the demon, and Sebastian didn't hesitate to climb aboard.

"I was chased away from my meal by a gang of reapers," the demon muttered. "I've been cultivating it for four years, but they snatched it anyway. I wasn't aware you allowed them access to our sanctuary, Charon."

He ducked as the other male swung an oar made of bone towards him, narrowly avoiding the strike. "You will not address me by name, you impudent thing. You'll notice I'm polite enough to not ask yours," the other huffed, before stepping forward and sitting before Sebastian.

He was an older male, with a grayed beard that touched the wood of the boat. His eyes were bright green, and as he stared Sebastian down, his sunken features contorted as if he recognized the demon. He reached up to adjust a set of half-moon spectacles perched on his bony nose, then muttered, "You're awful bold to accuse my reapers of such a thing to my face."

"It's the truth, but I don't need to press it further. I'll take it up with Satan instead," Sebastian muttered.

"Would you like a ride to Hell, then?" the ferryman questioned.

"If you would," the demon agreed.

As the ferryman began to lead them along the river, Sebastian sighed, changing his attire to something more appropriate for his destination, a dark cloak, before altering his form, allowing ram-like horns to manifest, as well as the feathers that covered his body from the clavicle down. "It's been some time since I've been home. Four years."

"Will you be waiting for the next contract?" Charon questioned.

"… No, not yet," Sebastian replied. The boat gave a soft rock then, slowing for a moment, before it lurched forward again. The fog of Styx gave way to pure darkness, the records fading to black waters, and the very air turned warm and humid, thick with sin.

"This is as far as I go," Charon said. "Care to pay me for the ride?"

Sebastian tossed a gold coin towards the ferryman, hopping off of his boat on to the muddy shores of Hell, and soon leaving. As the boat vanished behind him, the demon continued on towards the dark figures ahead.

Hell was lit only by torches, the flames hot enough to burn in straight streaks of blue, which lit the way towards the castle of Satan, as well as separate cities within the realm. Sebastian looked about for a moment. It was nearly as quiet as Styx, and that wasn't right. They must have dwindled in numbers more than he'd originally thought, as it was rare for all demons to be in a contract at once…

"No screams, no crying… what a boring place this has become," Sebastian sighed, starting along a path that led to a forest. "Completely bland."

He'd seek out a fellow demon, one he'd met during his contract. If he beat the other into submission, after all, he'd have a rather good servant, help in retaliating against the reapers.

A breeze swept across the ground as he strode along the path, catching his cloak and blowing ash into his face from the forest ahead. Shaking his head and sighing, the demon trudged on, eventually entering the forest, which sparkled and rustled as ash and wind jarred the black leaves hanging on the trees.

The dark indigo of Hell's sky wasn't visible in the forest, as the tops of the trees grew thick together, branches tangling and filling any holes between them with their leaves. A demon gifted in flight, namely one such as Sebastian, was handicapped in such a place, keeping those who lived out here safe—safe, at least most of the time.

"Hoheo taralna, rondero tarel," Sebastian rasped. "Hoheo taralna, rondero tarel. Hoheo tar-"

"What do you want?" muttered a voice from behind him. Sebastian turned, the demon he'd summoned hanging from a branch, frowning. His eyes were dead. "I've no interest in you."

"Ah, but I've interest in you, Claude Faustus," Sebastian answered with a small smirk, eyes tracing the form of the other demon, analyzing the strength in his body—not enough to win, which was good. "I believe that you can assist me in something very important to our kind."

"I've no interest in you _or_ our kind. What payoff would such a thing offer me?" the other answered as he hopped down from his branch, though he stayed a safe distance from Sebastian.

"Souls," Sebastian replied. "Reaper souls."

"Ridiculous. I'll have none of it," Claude stated flatly. "There are more reapers in London than demons in Hell."

"Now, now, I know that thinking isn't your strongest virtue, so I'll extend my thoughts to you," Sebastian sneered, "If we had a scythe, or two scythes, we could take down reapers with ease. If we had more scythes, we could sell them in Hell, arm the remaining demons, and turn a good profit in the process. With each soul we would also gain power, become stronger, and what comes with strength?"

"Archdemonhood," Claude muttered, glancing back at Sebastian.

As rubies met gold, Sebastian continued, "I will split the rewards with you under one condition: you must follow my every order."

Claude's nose wrinkled and his eyes flashed red. "Not a chance," he hissed.

"I worried you might say that, so I propose a fight. Here in this enchanted forest, where you are most at home. I will not venture out of it," Sebastian replied, to which the other mused for a long moment.

"If I win… I can gain dominance over you?" Claude asked at last.

"I'll place a hundred years' servitude on the line if you offer me the same," Sebastian answered.

"Do you desire to form a pact?"

"No need. You and I both know that you are incapable of sticking to pacts," the feathered demon sternly huffed. For a moment, he could've sworn that he caught a spark of mischief in the spider's blank expression, but he didn't pay it mind. "We will simply fight, and sign a real contract after. One that cannot be escaped until the hundred years are finished."

"We will fight, then," Claude answered. "And I will win, and I will enjoy my power over you."

Sebastian's only response was to make his first move, quickly dashing around the lesser demon and sweeping a leg out to kick him in the side, but the other was fast to leap back up into the trees. A few quick jumps between branches alerted Sebastian that the spider was already laying web— _same tricks as always, Faustus._

"What's the matter?" Claude asked as he dropped down in front of Sebastian once more. "Distracted?"

The feathered demon rolled his eyes, then threw a swift punch towards the spider's face, dodging the retaliating kick that Claude responded with. With a hiss, Sebastian leaped back, then summoned his power and expelled it in the form of his black flames, which lit the trees and caught fire to the threads Claude had laid.

"Your little fairy tricks won't serve you so well now," Sebastian said with a smirk. "I'm not the sort to fall into the same trap twice." He again leaped forward, flipping gracefully before he landed with a kick to Claude's chest and sent flames towards his face. The spider grunted and grabbed his leg however, soon throwing Sebastian into a burning tree.

The red-eyed demon gave a sigh and got back to his feet, brushing the flames off like dirt and soon smirking. "I seem to have won."

"The cheapest win I have ever seen from a demon who thinks himself a noble," Claude hissed, opening his golden eyes again, the right one bearing a purple pentagram that glowed faintly alongside his eyes. The flames Sebastian had forced forward at the last moment had been those used to sign a contract, and in that last moment before he hit the tree, the pact had been made, and Claude had been forced into subservience. "I had not expected you to resort to trickery, Sebastian Michaelis."

"I've merely turned your own dirty tactics against you," Sebastian replied, stepping forward again. "You will be a good slave, I'm certain."

The spider lunged forward with a hiss, only to halt as he was ordered to, "Follow every order given to you without fail, do not harm your master in any way, and know that this contract will break after a hundred years, or sooner, if I die before then."

"What shall I address you as?" Claude muttered.

"I would gain nothing but an upset stomach to hear you address me as master. Refer to me by the pet name you know, and I will do the same. I do not wish to render you totally helpless," Sebastian replied simply, "at least for now."

"What will you have of me, then?" Claude prompted as his eyes continued to glow.

Sebastian lifted his left hand, the pentagram that had formed on it glowing in response as he muttered, "Claude Faustus, I order you to join me in forming a clandestine plan to rid London of its reapers and grant us a safe hunting ground for the next hundred years. Our ultimate target, named William T. Spears, is _my_ kill, and _my_ meal. Do not lay a finger on him."

"… Fine," Claude answered, before sitting. "This is my part of the forest; will we remain here?"

"No. We will make way to my territory," Sebastian replied. "This forest makes me terribly claustrophobic." He started out of the forest, and Claude reluctantly followed, closing his right eye to hide the seal from any other demons they crossed paths with.

* * *

 **A/N:** Man, first time I've started a new fic in over a year. o_o' Well, here we go I suppose!

Expect romance in this to be extremely slow, haha. This won't be much like old times, I'm afraid. :P Reviews and criticism are welcome, so do let me know what you think! :)


	2. The Hunt Begins

"We might have failed in killing the demon Sebastian Michaelis today, but that does not mean that we are to give up. He's mad with hunger right now, no doubt starving as he recuperates in Hell. He will soon form another contract, and when he does, we will be ready," William spoke, sharp eyes watching the lineup of reapers before him. "There are but two demons left who dare to hunt in England, and they have both been seen in London before. It is in our best interest to eliminate them entirely." William's eyes rolled over to a break in the line, where a young blond reaper was stretching tiredly, his back cracking almost louder than the glare William was pinning him with. "Are you disinterested in our mission, Ronald Knox?"

"Nah, nah," the blond replied, sighing as he stretched downwards next. "It's just… well, ya know. I think it's suuuper dangerous to be out on Styx, no matter what our purpose is. I remember back in Academy, we were always learnin' about how river Styx was guarded by that old guy, and…"

"That 'old guy' is the most traitorous reaper alive today," William replied coldly, an eyebrow twitching. "Don't pretend that you don't know his name."

"Yeah, yeah, Charon the ferryman, whatever," Ronald groaned. "But the _point_ is that the guy's a psychopath and would probably go nuts if he saw us out there. Why can't we just kill the demons when they pop up in the mortal world?"

"As I have explained previously, in London there is always chance for a second demon to crop up where we are attempting to kill the first. On this recently discovered island, the chance of two demons appearing at once is minuscule, given that they are only able to go there when their contract allows. This is precious information we've been granted, Knox, do try to keep it straight."

Ronald pouted and gave a small sigh, before nodding. "Sorry, boss."

"I will see you all here tomorrow at dawn. Be late and suffer the consequences. Dismissed," William stated, adjusting his glasses and allowing the reapers to leave.

"Hahh, I hate this," Ronald mumbled to a senior. "Wanna go grab a drink?"

"Sorry, kid, Alan had an attack earlier," the older male replied, combing a hand through his blond hair, pulling it away from the darker cornrows he wore it in. "I gotta meet 'im in the hospital."

"That's rough. Tell him I said hi, okay? I'll catch ya later!"

"Later, Ron."

As the last few reapers left, William gave a soft sigh and started for the crisp white halls as well, soon beginning towards the second floor. Despite being assigned to this mission from on high, he still had his normal work to do. He could only hope that the feeble team of Dispatch he'd left behind had done well.

His office keys lightly clinked together as he unlocked his office and stepped inside, but his mood immediately darkened as he saw the mess of red that sat on his desk.

"Hello, darling. I've been waiting for you~," the slender reaper cooed as he stretched across William's desk, a folder held in hand. "I've got all my work done!"

"I doubt that," William muttered. "Get off my desk, Grell Sutcliff."

"Honestly, darling, you give me all~ this work, and you tell me in that gorgeous voice," he started to mock William's voice, " _This is a dire situation, Grell Sutcliff, don't mess this up for me._ And then, after saying something like that, you _aren't_ grateful~?"

"Hand me those reports, and we'll just see if you've done so well," William replied, voice stern as he took the reports. "That being said, past behavior predicts future behavior, and you do not have a particularly decent record, Grell Sutcliff."

"So cold," Grell cooed, "you're making me shiver, darling."

William turned away from the red reaper, opening the folder and starting to look through reports silently. "… What about Humphries's work?"

"That's his own problem," Grell answered with a pout as he combed a hand through his crimson tresses. "Alan _said_ he could do it alone, so I certainly didn't offer him handouts."

"I see." William set the reports back on his desk, then turned back to Grell. "Since you've managed to do your work for once without compounding my own, you are free to go. I will speak to Humphries in the hospital and tell him to finish his reports."

"Oh, he had an attack? I didn't notice," Grell replied innocently.

"Indeed." William left the office with that, and the redhead sighed, watching him go before leaving his office as well. His eyes caught a glimmer of metal on the office, and he glanced back, catching sight of William's keys on the desk.

He glanced down the hall, but the stoic reaper had left already. Though Grell briefly considered cutting the other some slack, he soon determined that he'd done enough work to be granted this, and he shut William's office door, soon locking it with the replica he'd had made. He knew that William would likely change the locks again after this, but it'd be worth it to get the satisfaction of having to steal his new office key all over again.

Starting back down the halls, the redhead mused over whether he should head to the mortal realm and try to find a demon to play with. They always put up such good fights, after all, it'd no doubt be worth it…

"Grell, sir!" Ronald called, catching sight of the redhead as he left his own office with a briefcase in hand, a black fedora stuffed carelessly on his head. "Wanna head with me to the pub?"

"To the pub?" Grell repeated, sounding terribly disappointed with the offer. "I do hope this isn't your way of coming on to a lady, brat."

"Nope! It certainly isn't," Ronald answered. "I just need a drinkin' buddy, so are ya comin' or not?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you acting like that," Grell said, giving a frown. "I only go out with real men, thank you."

"Fine by me," Ronald sighed. "I guess I'll find someone else." He turned to go, but Grell stopped him with a quick question.

"… Hey, brat, are there any demons in London right now?" the redhead asked.

"Uhhhhhm… let's see…" Ronald scratched the back of his head. "Nah, the two we know about are both in Hell right now, I think. Your uh, your 'Sebastian darling' just finished his contract."

"Such a pity," Grell sighed. "I can poke around for him, though! Maybe he'll chance a trip to the mortal world to find his next contract!"

"Not likely," the blond chuckled.

The older reaper heaved a long sigh, then reluctantly nodded. "All right, one drink, but then I've got to go home and do my nails before the night shift," he said dismissively. "Count yourself lucky, brat."

"Thanks, sir?" Ronald chuckled. "We'll head to my car, then."

"When did you get a car?" Grell said in surprise. "Only the higher ups have been able to afford them, I heard."

"I saved up," Ronald answered happily as they headed for the stairs. "It's a newer model, too~"

"Is it red?"

"No, black," Ronald chuckled. "Sorry, I'm not into painting it," he said sheepishly, amused when Grell gave a disappointed sigh. They headed down a flight of stairs and left the Library, out to the parking lot. Most of the cars were identical, Model Ts, but Ronald's model was indeed newer.

"It's hideous," Grell sighed.

"Don't say that, you'll break my heart," Ronald said with a grin, walking up to the car and affectionately patting the door. "She's the only girl I'll ever keep, and she's beautiful to me!"

"Ugh, I'm going to be sick," Grell huffed, rolling his eyes. "See, this is why you're an unbearable brat."

"Because I like my car?" Ronald asked as he gave a childish pout.

"Because you're so gushy. A woman needs to be roughed up every now and again, you know~," Grell purred. The younger reaper sighed and opened the door.

"You gonna get in or what?"

The redhead gave Ronald a long look, another huff, before he finally stepped into the car. As the door closed behind him, Grell silently mused if he'd see Sebastian again.

* * *

"There are several reapers I've learned of during my contract," Sebastian stated, a map of England before him. "There is only one that we must avoid at all costs: the Undertaker, who has returned to London. He is the most powerful reaper in existence currently, moreso than Charon, who has grown weak in his old age. We also must try to avoid conflict with William T. Spears, Eric Slingby, and Grell Sutcliff. These are high-ranking officers with a lot of power in them. To begin with, we will hunt fledglings out on their graduation exam from the Reaper Academy. Not only are they weak, but they're given poor glasses and sickle scythes. There should be no surprises in hunting them."

He glanced up, meeting Claude's gaze. The spider said nothing, so he continued, "We must lay low. That will be no trouble for you, however I spent much time in London, and I will likely be easy to recognize. I may need to hang back."

"What are your orders?" Claude questioned, voice void of emotion as he watched Sebastian.

"I will accompany you to the mortal realm. You will use the spiders and birds in the area to learn what reapers are going to be out at one time. I will lay low and attempt to find information as well."

Claude's lips twitched slightly as he held back a smile, before he stated, "I had forgotten that your kind is not blessed with the capability to communicate with animals. Such a pity for you."

"It is a simple fairy trick. It is useful that you were born with it, however my not having it does not hinder me," Sebastian answered.

"I am not a fairy," Claude muttered, all amusement gone from his golden eyes.

"Was your mother one?" Sebastian questioned. As the spider fell silent again, he gave a chuckle, then said, "Yes, I figured as much. It stands to reason, given that you stick so closely to that forest. It must be your birthplace."

Claude didn't answer.

"You really should leave that forest. It says a lot about you that you're so comfortable out there."

Finally, the spider stood. "Are you finished?"

"Yes, let's head out. You have your orders," Sebastian agreed. "… I believe we will hide out underground, or in the mountains. Somewhere far from humans and reapers. I will summon you if I discover a place worth staying." He headed back towards Styx, taking a moment to overlook Hell. His territory was in the badlands, and they had been discussing plans atop a large, rocky spine in the ground, allowing for quite the view. Sebastian carefully manifested a set of large, black wings, soon glancing back to Claude. "I trust you will follow easily enough?" When he received no response, the crow sighed and nodded. "Right. Meet you at Styx." With that, he jumped up, his wings catching a powerful gust of wind that boosted him up higher still as he began to glide towards the river.

From above, their realm was quite the sight. Jagged peaks and boulders, spikes across the earth, cliffs and mountains, all black as slate but glowing with tiny droplets of blue fire. It was beautiful—it was _home_ —and it was as starved of its population as its population was starved of souls. Sebastian carefully tilted his wings, turning to carefully glide around Satan's castle, the largest structure in Hell.

And yet still, it was as quiet as Styx.

 _How terribly and most utterly bland._

A dive, a sharp turn upwards and a curve of the wings later, and Sebastian dropped lightly on to the muddy shores of Styx. Drawing another coin from his pocket, he waited for Claude.

The spider wasn't long: although he'd had to run, he was quick on his feet by nature. As he soon dropped down beside Sebastian, the crow flicked his wrist.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…_ The golden coin skidded along the black water until it was gone from sight, vanishing as it crossed the realms. There was no doubt that this would alert Charon—they'd soon be able to depart. Though it could be done, leaving Hell for the mortal world without a contract was frowned upon unless guided the ferryman. And as it wouldn't take too much time from them, it was important to lay low.

Silently, Sebastian manifested a pair of white gloves, slipping them on to hide his seal. Though it wouldn't raise as many eyebrows as leaving Hell without Charon, it was simply safer to not show off his contract seal with Claude.

And, as mentioned previously, safety was one of Sebastian's biggest priorities.

At last, the large wooden boat rolled up to the shores of Hell, and Charon held out his hand. Sebastian paid for himself and Claude both, soon stepping into the vessel. "You're back quite fast, Sebastian Michaelis."

"Yes. I wish to revisit the old ways for my next contract by handpicking a human. Waiting to be summoned is tedious, and if nothing else, some time in the mortal realm will help reignite the people's passion in black magic."

"Is your companion the same?" the ferryman questioned as Claude stepped up as well. Claude glanced at the ferryman, nodded, then sat down alongside Sebastian. As the ferryman began to row, he stated, "Odd to see a pair of demons. Often I will see a succubus or incubus with their harem, but I've not seen two males so comfortable with each other, and headed for the same hunting grounds, too..."

"Believe me, this is convenience, not desire," Sebastian said firmly. "There is a reason demons do not take comfort in each other, and that reason has not changed between Faustus and I. Each demon is a vile beast who wants nothing else but what can further their own interests, and every demon knows this about the other. There is no reason why two demons would ever team up in such a way. There is far too much risk involved. We simply both want to start contracts at the same time and in the same way."

"Well, you know… if you demons had some trust between you, you could accomplish some incredible things. I mean... look at the reapers," Charon stated, shrugging as he continued to row.

Sebastian shook his head. They had a form of trust, after all—complete dominance—the binding, suffocating, ruthless, forced mutual bond of a contract. He glanced to Claude. The spider was like a dog sitting by its master's side, eyes forward, unblinking, fully attentive to nothing in particular. Repulsive though it was, having such a forced loyalty would be good. Claude would get plenty of dirty work done while Sebastian's hands remained clean and ready to spill blood only when the time was right.

"Ciel Phantomhive."

"What?" Sebastian perked, blinking and looking over at Claude. "What did you say?"

"The records in the water. They are Ciel Phantomhive's," Claude answered, scanning the records with hungry eyes. "How did he taste? Was he delectable? I so craved to tear into his soul." Claude reached up, taking the thin glasses off of his nose and cleaning them absently. Sebastian hesitated, then reluctantly gave an answer, eyes on the glimmering records of his old master as well.

"I did not have even the smallest of tastes," he admitted, his voice dropping to a mutter so as to alert Charon. "He was stolen."

Claude's eyes flickered with surprise. "I was not there."

"You weren't," Sebastian agreed. "It was reapers." As the surprise slowly gave way to understanding, Claude swept a famished tongue across his lower lip, and Sebastian continued, "I will venture to say that I am not the only one."

"… You are not the only one," Claude confirmed. "After our last encounter, I formed a contract in Yorkshire, where I imagined I'd be able to avoid you, for the most part. The contract was brief, yet I was hounded by reapers every day until they stole the soul…"

"Then, your last meal?" Sebastian whispered.

"Five years."

"You're going to die if you don't eat soon," the stronger demon murmured. Claude remained silent, so Sebastian pressed, "How long has your kind lived without food before? Six years?"

"… Four. I have outlived the others."

Sebastian sat back. He'd have to get Claude food as soon as possible. It simply wouldn't do for the other to die on him. Though he was impressed with the spider's endurance and strength even now, he knew that death could be swift and take hold within a matter of seconds. They would do best to have their first kill taken care of within a week.

"... We shall soon be in the mortal realm. I recommend suits and glasses—perhaps then we will blend in easier with the reapers," Sebastian advised Claude, who nodded in agreement. The two changed, easily manifesting the change in outfits and soon slipping on thin glasses, which their eyes adjusted to with ease.

Charon stepped up on to the stern of the boat, and Sebastian's eyes flickered down, catching something beneath the older man's robes. However, he soon forgot about it as the river parted, mortal water flooding in as they began to cross the realms again.

"Hold on tight, boys," Charon said with a smile, the boat rocking, lurching, before it plunged forward as if sucked into the mortal realm by a higher being. As water of the Thames river crashed about the vessel, splashing the demonic passengers, Charon gave a hearty, full laugh. "Ah, it has been some time since I've made this crossing. So, to remind you how this works, you will not be visible to mortals until you deliberately touch a living creature larger than your hand," he said to the two. "This includes dogs, horses, trees, humans, and the like," he said, "however, you will not be invisible to reapers, angels, or fellow demons at any point. Enjoy forming your next contracts."

"Thank you," Sebastian answered as he stepped off the boat, Claude following after him. As the boat once more drifted out of sight, the pair headed into town to begin their search for information.


	3. When it Rains, it Pours

Night fell over London like a wet sheet left out to dry in the crisp, cold air. As the skies turned dark, rain clouds rolled in, bringing with them light, drizzling showers that flooded the ground and cleansed it of dust and debris. The biting gusts of wind that would occasionally drift through whispered promises of the oncoming winter, of pale snow, and of death.

Among the hiss of rain hitting the ground, it was nearly impossible to hear the clack of red and black heels against the rooftops, or the occasional laugh of the madman wearing them.

"Ahhh, I'm so _wet!_ Why in _heaven_ did that cruel, _cruel_ Will have to assign me reaps in the _rain?!"_

The plea was hardly out of frustration. It seemed more like the redhead simply enjoyed the sound of his voice, and was amusing himself to compensate for being out alone. Finally, he leaped down, skidding a fair distance in the water, before running into an alleyway. He was nearly late, not that it mattered really. Being almost late, after all, did _technically_ mean that he was on time yet!

He revved his chainsaw scythe and plunged it into the heart of his reap, loving the way blood splattered him as he collected the records.

"Grell Sutcliff… fancy seeing you out here on such a rainy night."

The redhead stiffened, soon glancing up in surprise. Glittering green eyes stared at him through the dark, and he soon gave a soft giggle. "That you, you crazy old man? It's not nice to sneak up on a lady, you know!"

"I didn't sneak up. I've been here the whole time," Undertaker answered as he stepped forward, clearly soaked as well. "I've been asked to bury that man—you know, the one you're reaping—by his wife."

"How sad. She'd be more interesting if she just left him here to waste away," Grell sighed as he yanked his scythe out again. "There will never be a good killer out here again if emotion keeps getting in the way."

"I know, I know, dearie. I imagine you'd like to teach them a thing or two," Undertaker giggled as he moved to pick up the corpse, lifting it on to his back and letting dead arms fall around his shoulders. "I've some interesting news for you, but you must promise not to tell William, lest the weight I've been carrying snaps my neck," he said as gave Grell a wise, full grin.

"I don't tell secrets," the redhead said with a pout. "What is it?"

"Come back to my shop, we'll speak there," Undertaker answered as he started to walk off, lugging the corpse with him. Grell followed, a bit confused but curious nonetheless.

 _Hisssss,_ went the rain.

At last, they reached Undertaker's humble funeral home, and the mortician opened the door for them with a soft, welcoming cry from the little bell overhead. As they stepped inside, Grell wrinkled his nose. "It's foul in here, Undertaker."

"Sorry about that. Got a few leaks that I gotta get fixed," Undertaker sighed. He carried the body downstairs, soon returning and adding, a bit late, "Ah, and I dropped a preserved liver right there earlier today, where you're standing."

Grell shrieked and immediately leaped away from the spot, frowning when Undertaker burst out laughing and fell over. "You crazy loon, I _knew_ that they'd made a mistake when they let you off the hook…! Now I'll reek of this for days—!"

"I w-was just kidding you, dearie," Undertaker cackled. "Just- pff hahahaha! I just needed a laugh, is all!"

"Honestly, inviting a woman into your shop only to do that… you're the worst," Grell said, folding his arms and pouting as he turned away from Undertaker.

"Ahh, but it was worth it," Undertaker snickered as he got back up to his feet, leaning against the counter for desperately-needed support.

"Well, now that you've made an arse of yourself, go ahead and tell me what you were going to tell me," Grell replied in a tone dry enough to take the mist out of the air.

Undertaker's chuckles faded to a couple weak snorts, before he finally spoke, "I do believe Sebastian Michaelis has returned to London."

"What, already?" Grell gasped, giving an excited grin. "I thought he wouldn't come back for at least a few contracts! I suppose he just _had_ to come back to see me though," he giggled, winking. "Poor baby, he'll be so disappointed when he realizes just how busy I am."

"I'm sure he will be," Undertaker agreed with a chuckle. "But that being said… I'd like to ask a favor of you, regarding him,"

"Oh, goodness, the great _Undertaker_ needs to ask a favor of little ol' me? Oh, I might faint, darling!" Grell cooed, rolling his eyes a bit. Undertaker might have once been great, and even greater as a deserter and wanted man, but as of right now, he was hardly anything. A coward who'd given up on his dreams…

The older male gave a knowing smile, before saying, "I want you to figure out what the chap's up to, that's all. In secret, of course—I can only imagine how Will would react to him being back."

"Talk to Sebastian… keep secrets from Will…" Grell tapped his lower lip as he thought it out for a bit, before he grinned. "Well, I won't lie, it _sounds_ fun, but you haven't given me much of a reason to come to _you_ to gossip over what Sebby's up to…"

"I trust you to tell me if it's bad," Undertaker answered. "After all, you're a very wise lady, even if you can be… impulsive," he giggled.

"Such a sly thing you are. Fine, since you practically begged me, I will keep tabs on Sebby," Grell agreed, giving a nod and suppressing any pride at the compliment. From Undertaker, it hardly meant a thing, after all. _Damned coward..._

"Thank you, dearie," Undertaker said with a grin. "I'll let you get back to work, then."

Grell glanced outside at the pouring rain, soon giving a sigh. "Right, work," he murmured regretfully. "Have fun with your corpses, darling."

"Will do, ehehehe," Undertaker giggled, waving, his oversized sleeve flapping as he did so, and watching as the door to his shop swung shut and his rusty little bell gave another ring.

* * *

"Try not to trigger visibility to mortals. Such a thing would only be a nuisance," Sebastian stated. "I will go try to find a hideout for us, so get to work."

Claude nodded, before striding away, and Sebastian began to move as well, running through London with ease and grace. The rain that plummeted heavily from the sky did little to slow him—same with the howling wind and the slicked ground upon which he raced. However, when sensitive ears picked up a noise that would otherwise be lost in the violent rain, Sebastian skidded to a stop and turned sharply, eyes wide.

Yes, there she was.

He remembered her from his contract. Ah, how the rain did abuse her gentle black hair, how her bright amber eyes were now dim with sorrow and fear…

Sebastian swallowed, seeing the cat scratch persistently against a door, another pathetic meow of despair escaping it. It was the very same cat he had cared for at the Phantomhive household, which of course didn't matter because sentiment was useless, but alas, it _was_ a cat _._

"I suppose I have no choice," Sebastian sighed, eyebrows furrowed as he stepped forward, soon reaching down and picking the wet body up in his arms. "You will join Claude Faustus and I in hunting the reapers," he told the cat, who looked at him in surprise, as he'd not been visible before, and meowed again. "Yes, I know." The demon was trying ever-so-hard not to grin. "You will be a brave warrior." He opened his jacket and tucked the cat inside to help it keep from getting any wetter, soon starting to continue along the road at a much less neck-breaking yet still brisk pace.

His affinity for cats was his tragic flaw, really. Had he been just a touch less captivated, he might have been able to leave London in time.

* * *

Grell heaved a soft sigh as he finished his last reap for the night, soon reaching up to brush a lock of drenched red hair out of his face. Glancing up with water dotting his glasses, he gave a small grin. The moon was starting to peer out from behind the clouds— _come on darling, don't be shy now—_ and hopefully, that meant the rain would stop soon. It already felt a bit lighter, at least.

Leaving the body of the man behind, Grell leaped back up atop a roof, scanning the streets. Barren, empty, not a soul in sight… just water and wind.

 _And yet…_

He could hear it. Though it was faint, it was definitely there. The slosh of footfalls on the flooded street echoed just louder than the abating rain, barely enough to be detected. With a graceful leap in the direction of the noise, Grell soon spotted a man soaked to the bone, wearing a dashing suit which he had pulled tight around himself. It wouldn't take a supervisor to recognize that the man wasn't human: though his scent was masked by the precipitation, the man bore no trace of a mortal soul.

And though a rookie might take him for a reaper, Grell was no rookie, and _he_ knew that the only reaper out on the streets of London tonight was himself. Had Alan not had that attack earlier, _maybe_ Grell would be able to buy this, but since he did…

Another leap, a flip in the air, and Grell landed before Sebastian like a cardinal, grinning toothily at him and cocking a hip. "Hey there, handsome. Remember me?"

Dark eyes flashed red. "Grell," the demon acknowledged as he damned his luck.

"Oh, I knew you'd remember my name," Grell chuckled, slipping up beside Sebastian and laying a hand against his shoulder. "And you're lucky, I just got off work~"

"Lucky me, indeed," Sebastian answered as he forced a smile to his face. The cat hidden in his jacket was currently digging its claws into his right pec. "Unfortunately, I was leaving."

"Off so soon? You know, I was surprised to hear you'd come back," Grell murmured. Sebastian glanced to him, and Grell continued, "I mean, Ronald said you'd just finished a contract, so I figured you'd be in Hell awhile…"

Sebastian swallowed his questions, not wanting to raise suspicion. This was bad, but it could be worse; he simply had to play it safe and hope that Grell would buy a good story; after all, the red reaper didn't seem to know of the betrayal his dear William had taken part in. "You don't know?" he asked, baiting the trap as he started walking again.

"Don't know what?"

 _There, a nibble._

"About what a demon does after a contract, of course," Sebastian chuckled as he glanced over his shoulder, soon continuing to walk. "We don't get many chances to relax, after all."

Grell began to follow the demon, curiosity piqued. "What do you do? Go on, then, spit it out," he protested. "It's rude to walk away from a lady!"

"Well-," Sebastian adjusted the cat in his arms, who had taken to sinking those pearly whites into his shoulder. "We—take a vacation, of course."

"Vacation!"

"Yes, vacation." Sebastian almost sounded like he could convince himself. "Contracting is exhausting, and any demon, even one such as myself, would want the chance to relax after one. Now, most demons prefer to stay at home, but I have grown rather fond of the mortal world, after all I just spent four years in it. This is nearly more familiar than Hell…"

That prompted Grell to giggle. "Oh, darling, you flatter me, really."

It was only sprinkling now as the clouds parted from the moon and bathed the pair in light.

"So, essentially, I am here for nothing more than a bit of fun," Sebastian sighed. "Unfortunately, the old mansion is no-doubt being run by headache-inducing servants, so that won't be a possible vacation home for me."

"Well, you better find a place to stay fast," Grell sighed. "My darling Will would lose his head to find you out here, you know. He absolutely _loathes_ demons who aren't under contract."

"So I'd imagine," Sebastian muttered. "I don't suppose you have anywhere in mind?"

Grell hummed. " _Weeeellll,_ I _do_ suppose I could lend you a hand… after all, the late Madam Red had a number of vacation homes, of which I saw more than anybody else," he declared, grinning at Sebastian. "But I would of course want something in return… Perhaps that special touch that only you can offer?" he husked, leaning in close.

Sebastian gasped as the cat he hid in his jacket finally couldn't take it any longer, hissing as it clawed its way out and pounced on Grell, giving the redhead a good few strikes with its paws before it ran off into the night. The demon gave a sad sigh. How truly fickle cats were, even to their own saviors. It would've been nice to have a companion in the mortal realm, but…

Grell pouted as he reached up to touch his face, which had started to bleed. "Sebby, you're so ruthless!" he said finally. "Going straight for the face—I mean, _meow_ to you, too, but…"

"Apologies. I will do as you asked now," Sebastian answered, before sweeping a leg out gracefully and nailing Grell in the side. The redhead yelped sharply as he was sent into a nearby wall, and Sebastian gave a sigh and stretched, back cracking. "Hmph. I'm out of practice," he muttered.

Grell picked himself up again, grinning manically. "Ah, darling, you know me so well…," he purred as he walked back to Sebastian. "Perhaps one more for good measure~?" he asked as he squirmed a bit, grinning.

"No, I think you've had enough," Sebastian replied simply, and Grell chuckled, cheeks pink. "Will you take me to one of these homes now? I don't have time to waste," he whispered.

"Mmmm… fine, fine," Grell agreed finally, before running off, heels clacking against the stony ground. "Chase me, darling~!"

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but followed. If he could find a safe place for himself and Claude to regroup to without relying on Charon, then it would be worth it.

And the rain stopped entirely.


	4. The River Will Run Red

"Alan… do ya hear me, buddy? C'mon, ya can do it…"

"Eric…?"

At last, Alan's eyes drifted open slowly, and he glanced up at the silhouetted masculine figure that sat at the edge of his bed. A small smile crossed his face as he blinked away the sleep and the blur that came with it. "Thought you had work…"

"Work's over, sleepyhead," Eric chuckled. "Seems like you pushed yourself a bit too hard out on the field."

Alan gave a soft sigh and rolled on to his side, closing his eyes again. His skin was nearly as white as the pristine sheets he lay upon, save for a spot of blood left on his lip from the attack earlier. "Yeah…"

"I hear you turned down working with Grell."

"I could have done it myself, I just got carried away," Alan muttered. "You _know_ I can handle reaps alone, I don't need a babysitter."

"Alan," Eric said gently, laying a hand on his partner's shoulder. "You gotta be more careful."

"I'm not the one who just got out of jail," Alan whispered as he glanced over his shoulder at Eric. The blond winced a bit, and the brunette continued, "You're lucky to even be out now. It was a hundred-year sentence."

"Yeah, I know," Eric whispered. "I owe a lot to Will for gettin' me out when he did. I'm well aware."

"Do you think they'll put you back?" Alan murmured. "You killed even more than Jack the Ripper, Eric, after all..."

"No idea."

The two fell into silence for a moment, before Eric continued, "I know I've made some reckless, stupid moves, Alan, but you've always been smarter than me. Take the high road here and just accept some support when it's offered."

Alan slowly sat up, looking back at Eric with a frown. "I don't want to spend my time as a reaper being a burden on others. I'm supposed to be repenting and instead I'm just a leech who needs support," he said bitterly. "With this disease, I'm useless."

"Alan…"

"And you know the worst part of it all—I've already told you—how much I _hate_ not knowing how long it'll be until the Thorns take me. Two days, two years? Maybe I'll be gone in the next hour," Alan whispered.

"Stop it, all right? Just stop," Eric pleaded gently, reaching up and touching Alan's cheek gently. "I know it's hard, but you gotta be strong for me," he whispered. "I think you're an excellent reaper, and we'd be devastated to lose ya. _I'd_ be devastated."

"Is he awake?" William stood at the door, a splash of black and white with piercing green eyes. "Humphries, you did not finish your reports."

"Can't Grell handle them?" Eric muttered, ignoring another soft protest from his partner.

"If Humphries wants to do his own work, then he shall do his own work," William answered as he walked in, soon setting the files in Alan's lap. "Finish by morning, please."

"Of course, sir," the brunette agreed as William started away.

"And, Slingby," William added as he stopped at the door and looked back at Eric. "While I do sympathize with your partner's condition to an extent, I will not tolerate tardiness. Tomorrow at dawn, you understand."

"I know," Eric murmured. "Don't gotta tell me twice, boss." As William departed, the blond glanced to Alan again. Spotting the sliver of worry on his partner's face, Eric reached for the reports in the brunette's lap.

"Here, I'll help."

"Eric." A gentle hand set against Eric's, thin and feminine in comparison to the blond's. "I'll do it. Don't worry. Besides, Will knows your handwriting from mine."

Eric sighed as he reluctantly drew back and let Alan start working, though he couldn't help but murmur tips and reminders like a mother hen. As the brunette finished the first report, he leaned over, bringing the pen up to Eric's face and dotting his nose with ink. "I'm _fine;_ just relax, okay?"

"… All right," the other agreed reluctantly. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Alan assured. "Just having you here is help enough, so relax," he added with a small smile. That satisfied Eric, and the brunette continued to work on his reports in silence.

* * *

As dawn broke over the horizon and found clear skies and a ground fresh from the night's rain, Grell gave a wistful sigh. He'd helped Sebastian settle into a safe home out by a lake, private property of course, and now, in an hour, he would have to leave the handsome demon alone again. Glancing back at Sebastian, he asked for the fifth time, "Darling, are you absolutely _certain_ that you don't want me here? I could always call in sick."

"Reapers don't catch cold. Spears would likely come knocking," Sebastian answered with a smirk. "I think it'd be more harmful than helpful for you to be here."

Another wistful sigh, and Grell tried, "Well… perhaps after work then?"

"That may raise suspicion as well," Sebastian countered.

"… At least take me out to dinner or something, after all I'm doing all this for your little demon vacation," the redhead huffed, folding his arms.

Sebastian gave a sigh of his own, glancing away and trying to mask his irritation. _Grell could flip at any moment, it'd be best not to upset him._ Reluctantly, he gave a nod. "Very well. Dinner. But don't expect me to romance you, please."

"Oh, darling, there's nothing more romantic than a lack thereof, after all, absence _does_ make the heart grow ever-so-fonder~!" Grell declared, to which Sebastian gave a regretful shake of his head.

"And don't call too much attention to us. I'm trying to lay low, you understand."

"Oh, I'll be good for you, darling, rest assured," the redhead purred, playfully knocking his hips against the demon, and already plotting to put Sebastian through the wringer. It'd serve the brute right for damaging his face in the past. He soon caught the glimmer of a silent threat in Sebastian's eyes, however, and he wisely decided to slip off to the door. "I'll see you later, Sebby," he cooed as he blew a kiss to the demon. "Enjoy yourself~!" With that, he slipped out the door to start for the reaper realm.

Sebastian shook his head and sighed. It was unfortunate that Grell was now aware of his presence, but it would have to do for now. He could play the red reaper like a fiddle, after all. It would only be a minor setback—he'd make certain of that.

Reaching down, Sebastian pulled off the black glove on his left hand and muttered, "Claude Faustus, report to me."

"Here, Michaelis," Claude answered as he appeared behind Sebastian, a few canaries perched on his shoulder, tweeting softly.

"Excellent. Do you have any news?" Sebastian asked as he turned to face the spider. "This will be our hideout, by the way."

"I hear that there is a frail reaper who has been sent out to work more often as of late. He has some crippling illness that caused him to collapse last time, and it will likely happen again."

"He's not still there, then?" Sebastian asked, frowning as he tried to think of why such a situation felt familiar.

"No. Some reaper dressed in red brought him to the reaper realm," Claude answered.

"The same red reaper who offered us this home, no doubt," Sebastian muttered, before giving a nod. "Keep up the work, but be careful in the daylight. Meet back here when you have more information." Claude, eager to depart, left again, leaving Sebastian alone once more in the old vacation home.

"Well, then… I best be getting to work as well."

* * *

William's eyes were sharp as a hawk's as he looked down the row of grim reapers before him. "Slingby, Hawkins, Thompson…" His eyebrow twitched as he found it, the gap in the line. "Where is Knox?"

"Probably at some pub hungover," Eric sighed. "Want me to call 'im, boss?"

"Perhaps—" William cut himself off with a frown as the blond suddenly burst in, panting and clothes disheveled.

"Sorry, boss! My car broke down on the way here, I woke up with this huge hangover, and I couldn't find my tie—and—man, this is _so uncool!_ I'm sorry, sir!" Ronald said as he stumbled up to the line, face red. He yelped as he was swiftly smacked on the head with the pole of William's scythe.

"Showing up here not in proper attire, have you no respect for what we do?" William muttered, eyebrow twitching.

"I said sorry, man," Ronald said with a pout. "What else do ya want from me?"

William sighed and shook his head. "I will let it slide for now, as today we don't have a strict schedule. Be warned, I will not be so lenient next time." He turned, a large map of London hanging up on the wall. "Today, I am simply informing you all of some… concerns that those on high have expressed."

"I should've stayed in bed," Ronald mumbled to a senior. "Didn't expect a lecture."

"Firstly, are you all aware of _why_ we regard Charon as a traitorous man?" William's teacher-like tone prompted Ronald to raise his hand. "Yes, Knox? Although, we are adults. You may simply speak when I answer a question."

"Uhh, right, sorry. Charon made a pact with Satan, right?" Ronald said as he folded his arms behind his head to recover from the awkwardness of having raised his hand. No wonder no one regarded him as an adult, even now. "Like… a contract."

"Yes. A contract," William confirmed. "The contract stipulated that reapers would not take the souls of contracted humans—not the heart, not the records, not a single part of the soul would belong to reapers, despite the records not being consumed by demons. That's why Styx floods with the irretrievable records of humans."

"So… we're breaking that contract when we steal the hearts of the souls that the demons are trying to consume," Ronald guessed.

"We should not be. It is not our responsibility, as we did not sign the contract. We have, however, abided by this contract for four hundred years, for the sake of Charon. Now that we are going against it, there may be… consequences," William muttered.

"Those consequences bein'…?" Eric questioned.

"It is unclear what the contract stated," William replied. "However… there is a possibility that our actions would damn Charon's soul forever. He may undergo a transformation into demonhood, and with his age would come some power. However, we must remain calm, this in mind. Charon has not left the water as long as he's been on river Styx. It is unlikely that he would try to attack…"

"But Styx runs through the reaper realm!" Eric protested. "It's still not safe!"

"I am aware," William muttered, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "This is why I am proposing that for now… we shut down Styx, and stop the flow of souls through our realm. Charon will not be able to enter, and the souls that we collect will be safe in the library. We will still preserve the souls meant for Heaven and Hell, and we will have the records in preparation for Judgment Day."

"Are we allowed to do that? Angels can still bust in here, whether we have Styx running or not," Ronald murmured.

"…The orders that we are receiving from on high… are coming through angels," William muttered as he glanced back at the row, noticing how their eyes dimmed. No one wanted to work for angels—not here. These were all men who'd felt forsaken by the gods, who had taken their own lives, who had never felt the warm comfort of an angel's wings and indulged in forgetting their mortal pain. Their pain was eternal—they would never forget. Never.

"What… are _they_ up to?" Eric murmured finally. "I mean… all this, it was to save the souls of the contracts and keep tabs on the overpopulated demons, right? That's what we're doing?"

William shook his head. "I have given you all the information I can provide."

"If Charon turns into a demon, are we gonna kill 'im, too?" Eric muttered.

"He will have lost himself. It would be a mercy."

"Are we trying to kill _all_ demons?"

"…"

"Answer me, damn it!" Eric protested. "We've been raised not to upset the balance, and this is a step beyond savin' souls! We've been killin' demons—how many are left? Are other reapers doin' all this? Are they _really_ overpopulated, or did the angels just say that to scare our superiors?"

"Slingby," William interrupted, an edge to his voice. "We do not have a choice. Calm down, and remember that this is your job." He stepped forward, until he was standing before Eric, holding eye contact with the other male. "There is no place for emotion in a job. We work diligently, without emotion, and we carry out our job perfectly, no matter what we are tasked with. Do not force me to regret releasing you from prison, Eric Slingby."

There was a pause in which one might hear a pin drop. And then, Eric nodded and closed his eyes, breaking the contact. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Not a single speck of dust marred the surfaces of Madam Red's old vacation home—red curtains and walls, deep mahogany floors, all clean and polished and immaculate.

There wasn't a blemish to be seen.

The dining room, adorned with red roses enough that the scent would waft into other rooms, provided a stage for the glittering silverware set upon the red tablecloth that rested across the decorative mahogany table.

And all of it, made by a creature frail with hunger.

"What are you doing this for, Michaelis?"

"… Should you not be out working?"

"I grew curious as to your condition. What is going on here?"

"I am distracting the biggest threat to our work."

"Fine, then," Claude muttered with a roll of his eyes. "There is at least one pair of underlings scheduled to perform their final exam in a week. They are doing so earlier than the others because they are rumored to be 'triple-A students who are the top of their class.' Outside of this, graduates of the Reaper Academy should be performing most of their exams on a later week in December."

Sebastian smirked. "Perfect. Keep a close eye out for these supposed gifted students—the chance to take out a pair of green reapers without drawing too much attention is an incredibly vital one. If we can get them first… then the diseased, weakened reaper… my, we'll have enough power to start taking on the young officers before long."

"Yes, obviously," Claude muttered flatly.

Sebastian sighed and gave Claude a look that spoke volumes of disapproval for the sass, before he spoke again, "Do well to collect more information while I'm dealing with this reaper. If you see a weak one out there, you needn't hesitate to take them out. You need food, after all."

Claude nodded, then left once more, and Sebastian turned back to the table. With a wave of his hand, he lit the candles he'd set across the table.

"All right, Grell Sutcliff," he muttered, eyes flashing with a warm glow that rivaled the candles.

"Let's dance."


	5. Rotten to the Core

**A/N:** A bit of a longer chapter this week to compensate for missing the last one! Enjoy!

* * *

Grell sighed as he finished gathering his reports, soon making his way from his office with a little spring in his step. Tonight was going to be fun—if he could rile Sebastian up enough for a fight, then he'd get a good thrill. If he couldn't get the demon to that point, then he'd at least be able to wind him up so tight that the crow was about to burst—oh, what a _delectable_ thought that was!

Excited, Grell slipped into William's office, set his reports on the other male's desk, then turned sharply and started for the door. He stopped rather abruptly as he spotted Alan rounding a corner, only to frown as the brunette kept walking and bumped into him. "Watch where you're going!" Grell snapped.

"Ah. Hi, Grell," Alan sighed as he glanced up, eyes tired. "Sorry, I'm just here to see if there are any other reaps that need to be picked up. I want to make up for passing out yesterday."

"Night shift reaps are right over there, but don't take all of them," Grell huffed. "I just know you'll screw them up and I'll have to cover you again, so take care not to make too much trouble for me."

"Haha… I'm doing my best, rest assured," Alan sighed. "Are you taking your break now?"

"Mm hm, and I don't want to hear a thing about reaps until midnight," Grell huffed. "I want the full three hours this time—the _full three hours,_ all right? I've been working to the bone with all of the hunks not on the field, and you've not been helping," he said as he folded his arms.

"I know, I know. Go take your break. I've got this," Alan sighed, moving to pick up a stack of reaps.

"… Hmm… has Eric said anything about what Will's had them up to?" Grell asked then. "I figure he'd tell you, at least…"

"No, actually," Alan murmured. "he hasn't said a word about it, even to me."

Grell gave a sigh. "Pity. Well, you enjoy the field. I'm off to enjoy myself at last," he said, giving a wave to the brunette as he started away. There were really no perks in having Alan out on the field as well… not only was he frail as a flower, but he wasn't much to look at, given all of his self-pity and _emotion._ It was rather pathetic, Grell believed.

Only once he'd left the Library did Grell open a portal, making certain it was a fair distance away from his little meeting spot with Sebastian—after all, he didn't want to be _too_ easy to track. He soon made his way towards the villa, grinning as he saw the demon waiting outside for him. "Oh darling, you're so handsome!" he gasped as he saw the dark red suit the demon had dressed in. "Where are we going~? The nice restaurant down town? The expensive place up north? The—"

Sebastian reached forward and set his index finger across Grell's lips, hushing him. The red from his suit bled into Grell's cheeks, and in the silence, they could hear Big Ben chime that it was nine o'clock.

"Come inside, Grell. We're eating here," Sebastian said once he was confident that the redhead had settled a little. Drawing back, he opened the door, revealing the interior of the villa that he'd done up beautifully.

Grell wasn't so swayed, and he didn't hesitate to voice such. "Darling, come now. You can't possibly think that I'm going to let a man try to use a few romantic tricks to win me over?" he said with a pout. "I expected dinner out, and…"

"And?" Sebastian prompted as his eyes flashed. "This is a safe option for me, Grell Sutcliff. I refuse to go out into public."

"Yes, yes, but roses? Candles?" Grell groaned, walking into the villa and frowning at all the décor. "It's like you think I'm a little girl! You're lucky you didn't use pink or I would've been completely and _utterly_ disappointed. As is, mm. I'm only _mostly_ disappointed." The red head looked back at Sebastian. "Come now, you're a demon. Can't you do better for a woman than a few pretty flowers?"

Though frustrated, Sebastian stepped forward. "How about some wine, then?" he muttered. "They don't make a habit out of giving little girls wine."

"… It's a start," Grell answered after a long moment, reaching up and combing a hand through his hair. "But I hope you still have a good dinner planned," he said as he sat on the table and leaned back, kicking up a leg. "Because I deserve the best, you know~? I've been working so hard..."

"Have you now?" Sebastian questioned as he left to fetch wine, soon returning with a glass which he handed to Grell. "I didn't know you were the sort."

"Oh, please, when it comes right down to it, I don't want to be suspended again," Grell huffed. "The hunks have been off doing something else, so right now I'd get in a whole lot of trouble if I stopped reaping for even a tick! Of course, I'm on break now, but…"

"'Hunks.' William, you mean," Sebastian muttered.

"Yes, yes, him, Slingby, Hawkins, even that brat Ronnie is out there!" Grell sighed. "Everyone except Alan and I are in on it."

"Do you know what they're up to?" Sebastian asked. His voice rang with a tone of innocence, but it wouldn't help either way.

"Sorry, darling, I wish I knew," the redhead sighed as he flopped back against the table. "But alas! No one's speaking to me, and Alan hasn't heard a word either… I'm sure it's some nonsense like we're getting more transfers. I hope Ronnie gets sent back to Italy, personally. I'm _so_ sick of his boyish little arse. I mean, it's nice to bully him into doing what I want sometimes, but—"

"Ah, excuse me," Sebastian cut in. "I believe dinner's ready."

"What did you make? It better be good," Grell called as Sebastian left. The demon soon returned, a perfectly plated filet mignon served with baked potato and steamed vegetables held in hand. As he introduced the dish, Grell hummed and nibbled his lower lip, thinking up what he could say to throw off the demon. He had nothing, though—it smelled lovely.

"How's it cooked?"

"Rare."

"You're trying to get me sick," Grell said with a pout.

"Nonsense." Sebastian gave his best fake smile and held out the plate. "Now. Will you be eating atop the table tonight, or in a seat? If the former, shall I hold the plate for you?"

Grell downed his glass of wine and hopped off the table, soon moving to a seat. "I'll sit. But I notice you only cooked one meal, Sebby."

"I cannot taste mortal foods, if you'll recall," Sebastian said. "I find them to be little more than tasteless or bitter mush, so I'd prefer not to eat, myself."

Grell hummed, glancing down. "Could… blood do you some good, darling?"

"It would, yes. A little bit," Sebastian replied. "At the very least, it is something I can faintly taste."

"In that case…" Grell picked up his steak knife and moved, carefully making a small cut on his wrist and holding it over his now-empty glass. He let it fill half way, then moved to bandage the cut with a small wince. "There, take that."

"I believe your blood would be terribly repulsive. I'll pass," Sebastian replied swiftly.

 _"_ _What?_ But darling, after I did all that for you!" Grell whined. "What, is mine not good enough? Do you prefer the blood of pathetic little human boys like that brat you contracted?"

"Frankly, yes…," Sebastian started, only to sigh as Grell forced the glass into his hand.

"There. You made me dinner, and being the strong independent woman I am, I did you a favor in return," Grell huffed, before glancing down at the meal before him and starting to eat.

"I see." Sebastian glanced at the ruby liquid filling the glass, and his mouth watered involuntarily. Just a drink. A little sip. It'd do well to hold him over, give him a little lift until he could kill a reaper personally. "How…" He hesitated again, lifting the glass slightly.

"Hm?"

"How much pain did your mortal life hold?" Sebastian asked slowly, cautiously. Reapers weren't often the sort to discuss such a thing, but before he would drink, he had to know. "If this glass were your soul, would the pain that fills it overflow and flood your heart?" He swirled the blood a bit. "Would the glass shatter from the weight of the pain, or could it manage to hold it while cracked and broken? Again… how much pain did your mortal life hold?"

Grell swallowed. Though the demon perhaps didn't realize it, his eyes had begun to glow as vividly as the liquid in the glass. He was showing his inner predator, the beast behind the mask… it was beautiful and deadly all the same. He could look like the delicate flower but be the serpent beneath, the crow with the wings of a dove… Ah, Sebastian Michaelis was truly thrilling at times like this.

"My pain burned fiery hot and passionate enough to melt the glass of my soul," Grell finally answered as a wolfish grin crept over his face. "Until nothing was left but flames and ash and a red-hot desire to spread my pain to others."

"I see." Sebastian brought the glass to his mouth and sipped from it. He then lowered the glass again and swept a tongue across his lips. He glanced briefly at Grell, eyes still glowing, then set the glass against the table.

"It's good."

* * *

Claude's golden eyes rested on the dark brown spider that climbed towards him with interest; it was a false widow spider—a favorite breed of his. Kneeling, he set his hand before the arachnid, let it crawl on, and lifted it.

 _Has something happened? I see, I see._

The body movements of the spider told him more than the words of any demon could. The diseased reaper was making his way towards Big Ben's clock tower, likely to reap the soul of a woman who'd already been dead about five minutes.

 _He's slow._

Move now and Claude would be able to make it there before the reaper. If he lay a web and waited it out, he would soon have a meal.

 _Michaelis is still busy? Good._

 _I don't want to be interrupted._

Claude let the spider down again and leaped up on to a nearby roof top, soon beginning to move, running quickly towards the clock tower. Taking a roundabout route, Claude picked up the reaper's scent as he passed the being, and he sped up further. Soon, he landed at the base of the tower, and he saw the corpse of the reap. He worked quickly, laying invisible threads of web across the ground and the wall of the tower. He then hid himself in an alley, and waited.

He could feel the reaper's presence as he approached. His steps were slow and staggering, his breath ragged. As he approached, a wheezing cough escaped him. "Damn..." Finally, the other came into sight, a brunette with a frail form. Nothing was right. If he didn't die tonight, he'd probably die by dawn of his apparent illness.

 _There, one more step._

Caught him. The threads snagged and pulled tight, the reaper flailing as he was tripped, only to have his arms trapped. Claude snapped one of the threads, and the reaper as spun onto his back, green eyes wide as he looked around. "What…!" He struggled, and the webbing dug deeper into his arm, cutting it, drawing blood. "Hello?!"

"No other reapers out tonight?" Claude questioned as he stepped forward. "How pitiful. You would not have been able to carry out your work in this condition."

Alan's eyes hardened. "Y-you! You were one of the London hunters! What are you doing here—Faustus is your name, right? W-we have a truce, so what are you doing?" he asked as he tried again to pull at the strings. A new vine of the Thorns was growing fast—he could feel it. He had to just take care of this reap and go home.

"The truce has ended. Reapers have stolen the meals of demons, and we are starved. So we are eating reapers now," Claude explained, eyes dead as he soon stood over the body wrapped in threads. "I'm going to kill you, and devour the heart of your soul. Are you afraid?"

Alan winced and coughed a few times, blood staining the web before him. "I…"

"Where is your scythe?"

The reaper shook his head, growing pale. It was at his very core, the ache was growing almost unbearable. This was it. Whether it was from the demon or the Thorns, this was his final hour. His final minute. He couldn't even tell Eric. Amid the panic that flooded his veins, Alan closed his eyes. He was... relieved.

"Found it." Claude picked up the scythe that had fallen beneath Alan, and placed the blade against his chest. "The body dies and the records are freed." He pressed the blade in, just as another fit of violent coughs wracked Alan's body. "Only the succulent heart remains. And to think you reapers waste them so readily..."

Suddenly, the pain stopped, and the records burst forth, glowing white ribbons filled with years of memories. They didn't fight, but instead, as the demon moved in searching for the soul, the records left the body and moved on.

Claude's eyes rested on the heart as the small ball of life drifted from the body, freed at last. It drifted up, up, and Claude reached out and snagged it, licking his lips with a long and beastly tongue.

He didn't hesitate a moment longer, bringing the ball forward and piercing it between his fangs. As the flavor of soul flooded his mouth, he sat back, eyes closing. It was perfect. Though not quite his favorite sort, it filled him, gave him power that he'd lost so much of. And… something else, the reaper seemed to have had a rough life, both mortal and immortal. It was deeply satisfying in any case.

He got to his feet and glanced around for the uncollected records. He wondered briefly where they had gone, but soon forgot about them in favor of looking at the blade he had now. It was a slasher, with a long handle and a small, choppy blade. Not the sort of weapon he would've preferred for a first scythe, but it would have to do. Sitting down, he began to examine it to make certain there wasn't a sort of tracking device, before he leaned over and snagged the reaper's bloodied glasses and checked them as well. He slipped them on to his face, soon taking them off again and setting them on the reaper's chest. Yes, he could see it only when they were on—a tiny chip, almost microscopic, was embedded at the top of one of the lenses. He had no doubt that it aided reapers in finding one another.

At least that meant that the scythe was likely safe to take. Claude stood again, and gave the reaper one last look, only to jump as something emerged from his chest—a long, black vine that appeared like a Cinematic record darkened as if rotten, and covered with thorns. Smaller records followed, wrapping around the reaper's body like roots as the larger tendril continued to grow.

Claude knew on instinct it'd not be good to stick around. Mortals likely could not see the reaper's body any longer, so he took care to leave, the scythe gripped in hand as he made his way back towards Sebastian's hideout at a leisurely pace.

* * *

 _Tick…tock…tick…tock…_

The grandfather clock's hands moved with the rhythmic, endearing little sounds that sounded louder than anything else, filling the living room with robotic life. Deep red eyes watched the hands closely, watched as each minute passed, anticipating each tick with growing vigor. It had been a long night, and it was coming to a close—midnight was well on its way.

The warm arms wrapped so tight around his own would soon be separated, the red body peeled from his own. In just a few minutes, he didn't even have to _think_ about the lengths he was going to in order to keep suspicions low.

"You know, darling…," Grell murmured as he opened a pair tired green eyes. He'd napped briefly, but it seemed that the reaper had woken himself again. Wise choice. "Tonight was perhaps… the most paltry, boring, pathetic night I've had all year. Truly, it was awful. We didn't even fight." He reached up and rubbed at a tired eye, a bit of mascara smudging off on to his finger. "I don't think I ever want to experience something to boring again. But… that being said…" He glanced up at the demon's handsome face, at the sharp angles and elegant deep-set red eyes, at the straight-as-a-ruler bridge of his nose, at the pale, ashen, thin lips that curved into the most eloquent of frowns. "I enjoyed myself, so… thanks, darling."

In fact, Grell wasn't content with how… terribly and utterly content he was. It was nice and all, but yet so boring. Perhaps he could make it just a little more interesting?

He leaned up. "Care to finish off the night with a _kiss?"_

Sebastian glanced back at Grell, finally tearing his eyes from the clock. His gaze was filled with a tiredness that Grell had never seen before. The poor dear was simply exhausted! Some demon to finish a contract and be off of the high within a couple days.

Silently, Sebastian turned his eyes back on the clock, and then something happened—something far too precious for Grell to press for excitement any longer—the demon's elegant and perfect face scrunched up, fought for a moment, and then his jaws parted in a wide and tremendous yawn, fangs glinting and making Sebastian appear nearly lionlike in the action.

"Oh darling. Demons don't even need to sleep," Grell said as a wide smile crossed his face. "I suppose I did put you through enough after all…"

"I'm not tired. I'm bored," Sebastian replied sternly, though frankly he was feeling quite tired indeed.

"Poor dear," Grell giggled. "Perhaps I'll depart a little early. After all, I should probably redo my makeup…"

"Go ahead, please. I do not wish at all to hold you back," Sebastian assured. Red arms released his own, and Sebastian winced, as his entire left arm was now asleep and would need to be revived.

"Thank you for a boring, uneventful, but thankfully somewhat unromantic night, darling," Grell giggled, stretching and combing his hands through his long red tresses, soon pulling his gloves from a coat pocket and slipping them back on. "I'll have to make you do nice things for me more often… though I suppose I could let you recover first… not! I'll be back tomorrow night!" the redhead declared with renewed vigor as he turned back to Sebastian with a grin.

"Very well. I will attempt to appease you less next time."

"Please do! Oh, you could serve me a beating heart on a plate and I'd eat it allll~ up, darling, but don't you dare do the same thing you did tonight!" Grell cackled. "Make it a little more _demonic_. A little more fun, you know~? A little more _sexy!"_ The happy red reaper threw open the door and started to run off, though Sebastian could hear him call into the night, _"Until we meet again, my wolf in sheep's clothing!"_

"What nonsense," Sebastian sighed, and he shook his head. The grandfather clock chimed midnight at last, and he leaned back against the couch with a sigh. One hour of the longest meal he'd ever been privy to and two more hours of the red reaper clinging the life out of his left arm. Wonderful, truly a productive night.

At least, he supposed, he had gotten some blood out of the deal. He didn't usually prefer to just _'take the edge off'_ his hunger like that, but it was at least a safer option than waiting for food.

"Michaelis."

Sebastian looked behind him, smiling slightly as he spotted the scythe in Claude's hand. "Good, it seems I provided Grell with a good enough distraction. He stepped forward. "Let me see it." He took the slasher from Claude, observing the blade and the handle. "Not too bad. I may choose to borrow it when we come across the fledgling reapers. How did he taste?"

"All right I suppose," Claude muttered. "I am glad to no longer be starving."

"I am glad for you, as well," Sebastian said with a nod. "It would be unfortunate if my underling died so soon after being contracted. Now, we will rest here until morning. Grell Sutcliff informed me that he may have tomorrow off, so I would like to attempt searching around for more information then.

"Very well," Claude agreed. "I will claim a room on the second floor," he said as he stalked away again.

"Rest well," Sebastian murmured. "We will work hard come dawn."


End file.
